Sebastian Verlac Reborn
by RandiGirl17
Summary: A couple of short stories as told by Sebastian Verlac, AKA Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern.


**Hey all! So this chapter takes place in City of Glass. Yes, I did incorporate actual text from the book just to clarify what's going on. This is my first piece on Sebastian/JCM. Hope it suffices! Enjoy and thanks for reading! :)**

The terrified shrieks and mournful cries grew louder outside. A woman had been sobbing outside just moments ago, but her sobs suddenly turned to a single blood curdling scream until she was silenced. The smallest smile touched my lips. The chaos outside was like a sweet lullaby to my ears. My fingers twitched around the handle of the hammer; they longed to be gripping a blade. A dark lust blossomed inside of me. I closed my eyes and imagined the blade slicing through an exposed neck, separating the flesh and unleashing a river of crimson blood. Gushing blood was always mesmerizing. The way it coated my fingers in a warm, sticky-

The front door burst open. I whipped around to find Alec and Isabelle Lightwood braced against the front door. Turning my back to them, I continued nailing logs of wood over a jagged hole in one of the windows.

Alec's voice filled the living room. My hand involuntarily tightened around the hammer and I glared at the wood in front of me. Alec Lightwood disgusted me. He was filthy, a disgrace of a Shadowhunter. I knew about his desires; he was easier to read than an open book. Hearing his voice only fueled my own desire to kill him. It would not be a swift execution. No. I'd take my time, drawing out the torture, making him scream... I smashed the hammer against a nail, pretending it was Alec's skull.

"There," I said, plopping the hammer down on the bookshelf and admiring my handiwork.

Isabelle tended to Max Lightwood, who was sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth. The sight was pathetic. Nothing a little whipping couldn't fix.

Alec was speaking again, much to my annoyance. "I'm going to go after Aline. I want you three to stay here. Isabelle, look after Max. Sebastian, finish securing the house."

Venomous rage coursed through my body. This waste of angelic flesh was commanding me around. Authority did not belong to creatures as revolting as Alec Lightwood.

Alec's voice cut into my thoughts again. "-be too easy for us to get separated out there. I'm not risking it, Isabelle." His blue eyes turned to me. "Do you understand?"

I held up my stele. "I'll work on warding the house with Marks."

"Thanks," he said, making his way back to the front door. He turned to hold Isabelle's gaze before leaving. The spectacle put a foul taste in my mouth.

"Isabelle, your wrist is bleeding," Max said.

A dark patch had stained Isabelle's sleeve. My eyes skimmed over her body from head to toe, slightly curved in all the right places, as she inspected her wound. Such a pity that her beauty would soon be rotting beneath the ground.

"I'm going to get my stele. I'll be right back and help you with the runes, Sebastian," Isabelle promised, heading for the stairs.

"I could use some help," I said, keeping my voice level. "These aren't my specialty."

I began drawing a rune on the wood, taking my time as I waited for her to disappear upstairs. When I hear the faint scuffling of her boots overhead, I pulled my stele away from the log and pocketed it. Taking the hammer in my hand and hooking it through my belt loop, I turned to the youngest Lightwood sibling, still cowering on the floor.

"Max," I said softly, "would you like to help me with something?"

His eyes drifted nervously to the stairs, searching for his sister. I stepped into his line of vision and angled my head towards the kitchen.

"Maybe Isabelle-"

"I need someone braver than Isabelle," I persuaded, my voice sickeningly gentle. "You're brave, aren't you?"

Max hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head, making his glasses slip down his nose. He pushed them back up and stood up. I held out my arm, gesturing for him to go first. He reluctantly led the way, watching the staircase as he passed by. He stopped abruptly in the middle of the kitchen and I accidentally bumped into him, making him jump.

"Sorry," I apologized, forcing sincerity into my voice.

"What do you need help with?"

Max was half my size. My eyes watched him the same way a mountain lion might watch a rabbit. My prey had been laid at my feet. He really had no chance.

I pointed over his shoulder. "See that over there?"

"I don't see-"

My hands locked around the side of Max's head and with a sharp, jerking motion I snapped his neck before he could make a sound. His body went slack. I carefully placed his body on the floor, cautious not to alert Isabelle, and kicked him to the side with my foot.

"Max! Sebastian! Where are you?"

I hastily turned off the kitchen lights and positioned myself in the shadows. My hand gripped the head of the hammer and slid it out of my belt loop. My heart was calm, but judging by her frantic shouting, I couldn't say the same for Isabelle. I could see her blood now, gushing fast and dark as I smashed her open.

"Isabelle - in here."

"Sebastian," she breathed. "That's not funny. I thought you were-" The darkness choked heras she entered the kitchen, cutting off her words. "Sebastian? Sebastian, what are you doing in here? Where's Max?"

"Isabelle." I shifted closer to her, adjusting the hammer in my grip. The sweet scent of her drifted towards me. It was almost as delicious as the scent of blood. "Isabelle, I'm sorry."

"Sebastian, you're acting weird. Stop it."

"I'm sorry it's you," I said truthfully. "See, out of all of them, I liked you the best."

"Sebastian-"

"Out of all of them." My hand was steady as I lifted my weapon above my head. "I thought you were the most like me."

I brought the hammer down hard. It rushed through thin air, making no contact. There was a thud as Isabelle threw herself out of the way. Light flooded the room. Isabelle was gaping at me, her green eyes wild and frightened. They darted around the room, finally coming to rest on the small carcass off to the side. She let out a strangled cry.

I crossed the room before she could blink. My free hand shot out and seized her by the throat. She was light, and I easily lifted her off the floor. Her body thrashed, legs kicking and fingers clawing. She raked her fingernails across the back of my hand. I didn't even flinch. Her boot connected with the hammer in my other hand, sending it shooting across the kitchen.

"Do you want to play rough, Isabelle?"

I slammed Isabelle face first into the floor. She lay there, gasping and choking. When she struggled to push herself to her knees I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her back. She cried out and scrabbled at my hands once again. Holding her upright, I rammed my knee in her back, winding her. I aimed another kick at her back, striking her in the kidney, then released her hair and watched her writhe on her back.

After a moment of watching her suffer, I dropped myself on top of her. My hips straddled hers and I pinned her wrists to the floor with my hands. She thrashed underneath me, unable to free herself under my weight. There was a small cut on her forehead where the skin had split the first time I had thrown her to the floor. The blood trickled down her pale skin and into her hair. I thought of Clary's red hair and desire burned inside me.

"Get off me!" Isabelle snarled.

"You can't tell me you don't like the position you're in," I whispered lustily.

"You killed Max!" she screamed back.

"Max had seen too much. Besides," I ground my hips against hers, "I wanted to have some alone time with you."

Isabelle screamed and jerked upward, loosening my grip slightly. I pinned her again before she could escape. I laughed as I watched her ceaselessly struggle beneath me. Painfully slow, I bent forward and pressed my tongue to the cut on her forehead. The metallic tang sent shivers through my body. I chuckled as Isabelle screamed louder. It felt like my eardrums were being pierced with knives, but my smile never faltered. There was no greater pleasure than an enemy's torment.

When my amusement started to ebb, I quickly released one of Isabelle's wrists and aimed a punch at her face. My fist connected squarely with the side of her jaw, instantly subduing her. Still straddling her hips, I locked my hands around her throat, squeezing mercilessly, and slammed her head into the floor. Isabelle's eyes rolled, unfocused, but still open. I slammed her head down again and again and again until she finally dropped out of consciousness.

I sat back on my heels and Isabelle's thighs, panting. I ran my fingers through my hair, and when I pulled my hand away a dark residue stained my skin. I couldn't wait to wash the black color out of my hair. The color reminded me of Alec, making bile rise up in my throat.

I stroked Isabelle's hair once before pushing myself to my feet. My lip curled at the sight of Max Lightwood's corpse. He was thin, lacking muscle. Weak, just like his brother. I wished I could stay to see the reactions of the Lightwood family - or rather, what was left of them - when they returned home. Shattering this family had been a simple task, and a worthwhile one, at that.

I strode out of the kitchen, stepping over Isabelle's motionless body. Without a single backward glance, I exited the house and started down the empty street, licking the luscious blood smeared on my hand. I smiled, tasting the metallic salty flavor on my lips. _Better than mother's milk. _


End file.
